No poems allowed! | Imamother

HindaRochel

Fri, Jan 14 2011, 1:11 am

chocolate fondue wrote:

HindaRochel wrote:

robynm wrote:

HindaRochel wrote:

robynm wrote:

well you guyz are missing out...

I liked the story sunshine! very moving!

and hindarochel! I was actually surprised!! very creative Wink

I think a lot of people are missing the surprise.
I sort of want to print it out and give it to my friend, the human "mommy" (who came racing down the street looking for her pet a few minutes later) but while she speaks English she isn't native, so I'm afraid she might miss the joke.

I wonder if ppl click on benny to see his picture? bc ill admit, I almost didn't. and you def should give that woman a copy. I am not an animal person, so I can never understand those kind of ppl!

Someone else suggested that it wasn't clear enough...I was just afraid of making it too obvious. I'll have to give it some thought. Also dh caught grammar errors. I'm very good at making grammar errors. I wish some of these rather unorthodox talents I have would pay, but no...G-d blesses me such abilities as being able to read dyslexic thoughts and get lost easily.

what does that mean?
Love the story by the way. I'm glad I clicked on the picture!

My brother is dyslexic and often wrote, especially when young, works that left out words, sentences, letters etc. My mom grew frustrated one day trying to read what my brother wrote and handed me the whatever it was...too long ago to remember. I picked it up and read through without any problems, suppling missing letters/words reading in the correct order misplaced words etc etc etc.

And thank you for the comment! I'm still debating giving it to my friend. I'm not sure her English is good enough to understand that the "B***" refers to the dog mom and not her. (The human mom aka as the owner is a doll btw... One of these sweet, happy, vivacious, generous, open, loving people. The big boy the little fella chases is a massive Shepherd, which also belongs to the same woman. They also have several cats.)

imamama

Fri, Jan 14 2011, 2:43 am

HindaRochel, your piece was awesome! I was so shocked. I couldn't believe you would talk about someone like that. And then I saw the picture. Well done!

HindaRochel

Fri, Jan 14 2011, 2:57 am

imamama wrote:

HindaRochel, your piece was awesome! I was so shocked. I couldn't believe you would talk about someone like that. And then I saw the picture. Well done!

Thank you!

superjew

Fri, Jan 14 2011, 11:51 am

I think I'm going to start printing these writing so I have what to read over shabbos! LOL

I really dislike reading long things on the computer too.
1- I usually dont have THAT much time at the computer
2- If in rare case I do, It just bothers with my eyes
3- I have , like, zero patience Rolling Eyes

robynm

Fri, Jan 14 2011, 1:24 pm

superjew wrote:

I think I'm going to start printing these writing so I have what to read over shabbos! LOL

not a bad idea... ull have lots of pages... LOL

amother

Fri, Jan 14 2011, 1:45 pm

I posted this under the name MALKA when this first started, but I don't think many people read it, as I only got one comment on it and it was waaaaaaay before we started getting into this forum.
I changed the names to protect the innocent ( Wink

) but otherwise it's all true...

The day he left for rehab I was on an emotional swing-set.
After Mordechai left to school, I rechecked Shmuel’s luggage, made sure everything on the list was packed. I tucked in some last minute surprises—a card for him to read later, a picture of us from our wedding day. I dragged the suitcases down the steps to the garage door.
I don’t remember when he woke, but there was a quiet acceptance to the way he moved around that day. We drank coffee together in a comfortable silence; neither of us needed words to say what we felt. Every so often I would ask some benign question, did he remember to pack enough socks, and did he have paper for writing letters…even though I knew that he had. I had to stop after each statement or my voice would start to shake. There was a knot in my throat that was constantly threatening to turn into a sob. I wouldn’t let him see that. I didn’t want anything to change his mind about going at the last second.
About 10 minutes before his father was due to pick him up we brought his luggage outside. He hid some coke bags in his pockets, and I let him, reasoning with relief that if all went according to plan, it would be the last I saw of those wretched mini zip-locks. We spoke quietly, reassuring each other. We held each other tight for a while.
I looked up at him.
“I’m so proud of you. Don’t worry about me. Please. Focus on you. I’ll be fine. Don’t let my feelings change your decision to go.”
“I’m not,” he answered. “I’ve made up my mind. I’m going to see this through. Trust me, I wouldn’t be going if I didn’t want to.”
He was right, too. He didn’t do anything he didn’t want to do. If I had learned anything over the past 5 years of our marriage, it was that, for better or for worse, he was stubborn as a mule.
When his father pulled into the driveway, we were both fighting tears. We put his bags into the trunk, and he climbed into the front seat. A final, soft “I love you” and he was gone.
I stood there staring at the road long after they had gone, my mind racing. Simultaneously, feelings of elation and sadness came over me, overwhelming in its opposing forces, and I started to cry. I walked back into the house, the tears falling in rivulets down my cheeks. I didn’t know if they were tears of sorrow or joy, and I didn’t really care anymore. For the first time in 2 years, I felt like we were finally making progress. Our life had detoured for a long time, and we had gotten lost trying to make our way back to the main road. But now it was like we had found it again, and were travelling back to restart our journey.
I started cleaning up the basement in a daze, garbage bag in hand. I needed a distraction from my mind. I was beginning to feel numb. I came across the shell of a BIC pen, one of Shmuel’s snorters for his drugs. I threw it away with a feeling of satisfaction. I found another and threw that out as well. It felt so good. A sense of urgency overtook me as I went from room to room, searching for the skinny white cylinders. With each toss, I felt better and better. Halfway through my search I realized my cheeks were wet, I was still crying. I acknowledged this fact in a distracted sort of way, and kept going. When I was done, I’d probably thrown out about 15. I sat down on the floor next to the garbage bag and leaned my back against the wall. A huge grin crossed my face, tears still streaming down my face. It was over. The sleepless nights, the crying, the worrying. No more pleading with him, no more arguing. We could start again, rebuild our marriage, go back to the way things were before it all went to s***. The weight that had been on my shoulders for so long I’d forgotten its presence finally lifted. I felt lightheaded and giddy. I felt free.
It was a long time before I finally stood up, drained from the crying, from the rush of emotions, but still feeling weightless, almost light-headed. I headed towards my room to begin my day of work. The house was quiet, peaceful. It would be a long 30 days, and I would miss him terribly, but I was looking forward to the experience, to seeing him transform into the person I used to know, into the Shmuel I knew was still there, hiding under the haze of uppers and downers. He just needed the opportunity to come back out. And the opportunity was here. Now. I just hoped he would be strong enough to see it through. He needed to be. For him. For me. For us.

HindaRochel

Sat, Jan 15 2011, 11:11 am

Excellent Malka!

superjew

Sat, Jan 15 2011, 7:48 pm

malka, its amazing! brought tears to my eyes (the first time & now LOL

)

sunshine!

Mon, Jan 17 2011, 1:53 pm

edit

Last edited by sunshine! on Mon, Jun 10 2013, 11:30 pm; edited 1 time in total

HindaRochel

Mon, Jan 17 2011, 2:13 pm

BEAUTIFUL...I was weeping at the end, both for sorrow at the accident, and with the fear of the woman for what she would face and for joy. Wonderful job.

superjew

Mon, Jan 17 2011, 2:18 pm

wow. tears welled up & I was about to sob. (I probably could if I wasn't in middle of eating lunch LOL

)
The emotions come through so well. Amazingly written!

sunshine!

Mon, Jan 24 2011, 1:17 pm

edit

Last edited by sunshine! on Mon, Jun 10 2013, 11:27 pm; edited 1 time in total

sunshine!

Mon, Jan 24 2011, 9:41 pm

Did anyone read the above? Would love to hear some feedback.

the world's best mom

Mon, Jan 24 2011, 9:51 pm

Wow! I just read it now. It's amazing. I don't read the Mishpacha, so I don't know what inspired it. You seem to like writing about people with birth defects being bullied.

I like the end of the story. I'm glad she had it in her heart to forgive after all those years.

sequoia

Mon, Jan 24 2011, 9:57 pm

sunshine, your story is beautifully written and very moving.

cuties' mom

Mon, Jan 24 2011, 10:53 pm

I was going to write a story, but after reading all of sunshine's writings, there's no way I would even attempt it. Sunshine, I noticed with your poems also that you are able to write about a variety of challenges and make the reader feel that it really happened to you. How do you do that? I am in awe.

the world's best mom

Tue, Jan 25 2011, 12:12 pm

cuties' mom wrote:

Tell me, too.

sunshine!

Tue, Jan 25 2011, 12:21 pm

Some of the topics I write about are things that happened to or affected me in some way. I put myself into the head of my subjects and write based on how I envision them to feel. I also write about things that have affected people I know and after hearing their stories, I give them a voice.

the world's best mom

Tue, Jan 25 2011, 12:38 pm

Well, you do a good job. Your stories are very well written, besides for portraying feelings very strongly.